Don't Tell Don
by Gibby6247
Summary: The five times Charlie told someone not to tell Don and the one time Don finds out. 1)Colby 2)David 3)Megan 4)Amita 5)Allan 6)Don. Now Complete (the author note for chapter six has been replaced with the final chapter)
1. Colby

**AN: So I do have something in the works for Everywhere I Go, but I wanted to write this short fic, and a few others, first.**

 **Summary: The five things Charlie didn't want his older brother to know and the one time Don found out Charlie isn't the naive, clumsy younger brother he thought he was.**

 **Colby**

The FBI field office is dimly lit and vacant as Agent Granger's hulking frame moves slowly down the hall. It's nearing 1am in the morning, making him the only agent on the floor, and possibly in the entire building, though he's definitely not the only one loosing sleep over their last case.

The week long case had just wrapped up yesterday on an extremely sour note. It was without a doubt one of the more difficult cases for the entire FBI branch. One the bright side, they just busted an enormous human trafficking ring. Unfortunately, the ring specialized in preadolescence and adolescent boys and girls. When the walls begun closing in the leaders of the ring decided to cut their loses, they were just beginning to execute the remaining children when FBI and SWAT arrived. Majority of the kids were saved, the problem is that five kids were killed, and the unknown number who were sold before anyone _knew_ about the operation. It doesn't sit well with any of the agents on the case.

Colby, personally, tends to head to the shooting range to let off steam when he can't sleep. The FBI has a well loved shooting rang in the basement, but it's always locked at 12am. Luckily, Don's a seasoned agent who knows the demands of the job. He leaves a key hidden in the office, only his team knows the location and, for security, he moves it once a week. The larger agent has already made his way to Don's desk, grabbed the key, and begun the descent to the shooting range.

If it wasn't for Colby being a frequent visitor, he would never be able to navigate the narrow hall in the pitch blackness of the FBI's basement. Despite his knowledge of the layout of the basement, he's glad his sleep addled brain doesn't need to do any extra work thanks to the lights being on in the shooting range. Colby approaches the door, finding it locked as usual, despite the lights begin on and the the distinct sounds of someone practicing. As quietly as possible, Colby unlocks the door, enters, then re-locks it.

The shooting range is made up of ten stalls heading from the entrance to the other side of the room. Across from the entrance, on the other side of the room, it the small armory which only contains small firearms for practice. A resounding _bang bang bang_ fills the room as the mystery shooter spends the last of his or her bullets. Colby contemplates for a moment. The mystery shooter is four sections away from the door meaning Colby could walk by to see who it is. The agent normally keeps his curiosity in check, but he can count everyone who has a key to the range on one hand so his interest is piqued. Instead of indulging his curiosity fully, Colby settles on the section two spots away from the other agent instead, close enough to see their shooting, but far enough to give them privacy.

Once Colby situates himself in the sectional, he pulls out his off duty piece while keeping a close eye on the other person's shooting. The mystery shooter has their target placed at the far enough away to be impressive, but close enough to not be a prodigy. While Colby isn't close enough to see everything, he can see the fairly tight grouping in the other person's shots and the accuracy. He tries to shake off the remaining curiosity and begins setting his own target to take out his frustrations on.

Nearly ten minutes later, the large agent pauses in his steady wave of shots, two targets later, at the lack of shooting coming from the mysterious shooter. He hears the rustling of what sounds like a bag and the distinct noise of someone taking apart their gun. After a quick internal monologue, Colby decides to complement the other on their aim.

He steps out of own stall just as quick footsteps head towards him. Neither has time to register how close the other is when the, definitely smaller and male, other shooter walks into Colby's chest. The larger agent looks down and grabs the smaller person's arm as they stumble and try to regain their footing. With their face cast down, all Colby can see is the mass of curly brown hair. A million thoughts race through his mind, but there's only one person he knows with a head of hair like that. Colby's eyes widen as large brown eyes looking up at him in shock.

"Colby, what are you doing here?!"

The larger man stares for a moment trying to wrap his head around the situation. Charlie, Don's genius little brother Charlie, is hanging out in the shooting range at 1am,with a gun in his back pack, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, and judging by the pitch of his voice doesn't want anyone to know. The silence lasts longer than a few seconds, Colby is sleep deprived after all and in shock, if Charlie's awkward shuffling is anything to go by.

"Look just don-"

"How did you learn to shoot like that? Did Don teach you?"

"No, it was a requirement for one of the consultant jobs I did. It's not hard either it's just math."

"A requirement? You're just a math professor, why would you need to know how to shoot?"

"It was just a precaution in case the bodyguards weren't around." Colby nods his head in understanding, knowing some aspects, if not most, about Charlie's other consultant work are confidential and there's always a risk of danger. "Just please, please don't tell Don. He'll freak out if he finds out I own a gun let alone know how to use it. Then he'll demand I tell him the agency I worked at who taught me."

Colby stares into the pleading brown eyes as he considers his options. He could tell Don, but Don probably will freak out. The lead agent made Charlie promise years ago to come to him if he needed to learn how to shoot. The elder brother didn't trust anyone else to teach his little brother how to handle a gun. In Don's mind Charlie will always be one part clumsy and two parts distracted kid who can only be trusted with the basics of their own safety. On the other hand, if he doesn't tell Don and the man somehow finds out there would be hell to pay.

With his mind made up, the agent opens his mouth to form the words no, but as Colby looks into pleading brown eyes an, "Okay" comes out instead.

"Okay? Really, you won't tell Don?"

"No I won't, but if he asks or finds out I won't deny it either."

The shorter man beams and hitches his bag back on his shoulder. "Thanks Colby."

"So how do you have the key to this place anyway?" The two begin walking out of the range, locking the door and turning off the lights as they go.

"Oh, it's actually a funny story."

 **AN: The end for part one. Two and possibly three will be posted this week. I'm going to do Amita, Megan, David and Alan (not in that order). Please review and feel free to leave some ideas as to what Charlie doesn't want Don to know.**


	2. David

**AN: The second installment of Don't Tell Don, sorry about the delay (the day I set aside to write this I had a migraine and, of course, I didn't have time on the other days). Thank you for reviewing, I don't own Numb3rs. This one is more serious by the way.**

 **David**

David Sinclair is a _good_ agent. He lived in Bronx as a kid, dogging gangs most days to get a good education, and worked hard in every aspect of his life. Despite the hiccups in his childhood, David managed to attend Cornell University, join the military, and then become a part of the FBI. He's a dedicated, honest, and smart man, but right now he's scared. Most would think not much would scare a man like David, someone who's diffused countless bombs in Tel Aviv and who faces danger _willingly_ everyday to help others. Right now though, standing a few feet away from an armed gunman and Charlie Eppes, David Sinclair is scared.

About an hour ago David, Megan, Colby, and Don sat gathered around Charlie in the conference room. The resident genius was attempting to explain a complex math equation to lead them to their suspect's neighborhood. The suspect, Mark Hubbard, was wanted in a triple homicide that occurred the previous week. Mark had left quite a bit of evidence at the, clearly not premeditated, scene of the crime, but nothing to give away his location. The team listened as the mathematician described the five block radius and most likely houses Mark would live or hideout in. Once the briefing was wrapped up, Don made the executive decision to split up for the search, five blocks is a lot to cover and the suspect is considered armed and dangerous. The agents jumped into action, wanting to catch the man before his temper gets the best of him again, but the youngest Eppes intercepted them on the way out of the door.

The curly headed young man wanted to be included in the search, it was his math that got them the information after all. Don, the good older brother _and_ agent he is, immediately rejected the decision. The Eppes brothers went back and forth in an argument for nearly five minutes before reaching a tentative agreement. It was decided Charlie could tag along, after he claimed it would give him more data to tweak the equation, but would have to take the least likely areas and have an agent by his side at all times. The lead agent was just about to make himself Charlie's bodygaurd when Megan interjected saying Merrick wants Mark caught yesterday. Don's jaw snapped shut at her comment, knowing it would be best to leave his brother in someone else's hands, and scanned his team. The agent's eyes rested on David, someone he could trust with his own life and hopefully Charlie's. Don and David had a silent conversation, along the lines of _he's my little brother, I'm trusting you. Make sure he doesn't get hurt,_ before Charlie was instructed to go with Sinclair.

Everything had been going well until few minutes ago. David drove to the five least likely areas, making Charlie stay in the locked car as he checked them out, before radioing in to Don. Don ordered him to kill time while the rest of the team checked the remaining houses. The African-American agent left the time wasting decision up to Charlie who chose to go to a food vendor in the nearby park. The two had just stepped out of the FBI issued car and entered the more secluded entrance of the park when a young Caucasian male showed up. Then the young man, who has the brown eyes, messy black hair, and features to match the suspect's description perfectly, grabbed Charlie's arm and forced him to move a few feet away from David leading them to their current situation.

The suspect releases the tense grip he has on the mathematician's arm and pulls out a pistol. David, upon seeing the weapon, moves forward and makes a move for his own gun.

"Hey stop!" The gunman swings the handgun between Charlie, who he's standing about an arm-length away from, and David. He's sweating, defiantly nervous, but has a determined look in his eye.

"Alright, alright." David raises left hand in a placating manner without moving his right hand away from his service piece. If this takes a turn for the worst, the agent wants to be able to shoot the suspect before Charlie gets injured.

"Stay where you are!"

"Okay fine."

Charlie glances nervously between the gunman and David. The mathematician doesn't want to escalate the suspect so he tries to stay as still as possible. Unfortunately, standing still doesn't work. Mark turns the gun back on Charlie, clasping the it with both hands, and begins ranting.

"I know you! I've been following what the investigation, you're the guy they brought in on my case!" Charlie's eyes snap down to the gun as Mark steps a little closer. "You found out where I was didn't you? When I got home the FBI was knocking on my door. The FBI had been clueless for days until you showed up. Imagine my surprise when I find you two," He glances to the right at David, "coming out of my safe house." He takes another step closer, now way too close for comfort, spurring David to walk closer as well. Mark turns the gun back on David letting his left arm drop from the gun. "I said don't move!"

As Mark swings his right arm, and subsequently the gun, back to Charlie, the mathematician begins to raise his hands. The FBI agent yells at the genius to not move, but is ignored. He watches in a sick fascination, because he's sure Charlie will get himself killed, making a move for his service weapon. In the few precious seconds it takes the agent to pull out his gun, Charlie hits Mark's right arm, rushes forward to elbow him in the stomach then throat, and grabs the gun while the murderer flails in pain.

The entire thing takes less than five seconds, ending with two guns being trained on Mark. The suspect himself is currently grabbing his throat in pain and trying to catch his breath. David is gaping at Charlie in utter shock. He stares at Charlie for a few seconds, taking it all in, as if seeing the curly headed brunette for the first time. If David didn't know any better, he would say the clumsy mathematician was swapped out on the ride over to the park with a more coordinated version. However, David does know better and, once the shock ebbs away, the agent's observational skills kick in.

David notices four things while handcuffing Mark. One, Charlie's hands are shaking, and they defiantly were when he attacked Mark. Two, the mathematician's movements were designed to make the most impact on someone larger in the least amount of effort. Which leads to three, the movements looked practiced but not second nature and, four, judging from the shock in Charlie's eyes this is the first or second time he's done this. All observations lead David to think Charlie was trained, lightly but trained all the same, but never had to use it. If Don had trained Charlie the team would know, so Don must _not_ know about Charlie's new-found skills.

The agent looks up at Charlie, after he's done reading Mark his rights, and sees a shocked expression that must have mirrored his own. As Charlie lowers the gun, the look on his face quickly morphs to a mixture of panic and pride. David can only imagine what's running through the younger man's head on a good day, let alone now, but the mathematician doesn't open his mouth to say anything. He's just about to open his mouth to utter some sort of reassurances and praise, when Charlie finally speaks.

"Don't tell Don." The young man looks a bit wide eyed and begins to shuffle while waiting for a response. David huffs out a laugh.

"Don't worry man, that's a conversation I don't want to be around for." The brunette nods in relief, handing David the gun for evidence, as the African-American agent chuckles to himself about the brother's impending conversation.

 **AN: I think I depict Charlie as a clumsy person, even though he's not really portrayed as one in the show, because clumsiness is something I relate to. So I make the people around him, aka Don, think he's extremely clumsy when he's actually just a normal amount of clumsy and does have nonacademic talents. It also tends to go with being extremely focused or wrapped up in one thing, in this case Charlie and his math.**


	3. Megan

**AN: The third installment of my numbers 5 and 1 fic. This chapter gives a little more insight of the Charlie and Don's relationship and why he hasn't been telling his older brother some things. I posted this so soon to make up for the broken promises of last week. Thank you for reviewing**

 **Megan**

It's lunch hour at the FBI and most agents have already left the office. The sun gleaming lightly down on LA with a slight breeze and clear skies to encourage everyone to go out and enjoy their Friday. The FBI agents didn't need to be told twice to take the opportunity to go. Majority of the time a case, or paperwork left over from a case, stops the agents, especially Don's team, from going out during lunch.

Megan, one of the few agents still hanging around, sits at her desk and contemplates her options. She can go to the great little cafe down the street, they make amazing sandwiches, or the pizza place a few blocks away. Takeout is also an option, but as she rifles through the various menus nothing sounds too appealing. Normally Megan is fine with any of these options, mostly because she's a more laid back type of person, but the options don't seem to be the problem. Just as she's about to decided on working through lunch, the real problem dawns on her. She doesn't want to eat alone.

Megan quickly cycles through a list of potential lunch companions in her mind. The decision is easy to come by and she's out the door in a flash. Typically the agents in Don's team eat together, today they needed a break from each other. Working side by side with someone for 6 out of 7 days of the week _and_ eating together can put a strain on the teams dynamics, absence makes the heart grow fonder afterall. Besides, today David and Colby are eating with their significant others and Don's in a meeting with Merrick. Megan smiles to herself while riding the elevator down to the garage. She's decided to follow David and Colby's example by using her Wild Card with Larry for a lunch date.

The ride CalSci is fairly short despite Megan taking the more scenic route through LA to take advantage of the weather. There are more people out and about today. After a week long bout of nasty dreary weather, everyone wants to take advantage of the random sun filled day. Even the parking lot of CalSci is full of students lounging against their cars and chatting with one another. It takes Megan five minutes to find a spot. Five minutes is not bad by usual university standards, but longer than it should be when it seems like everyone rode their bike. She quickly hops out of the car and heads to the Science and Maths Department of CalSci to find Larry.

The rest of the campus is much like the parking lot. All the professors who typically hold their classes outdoors, and some professors who are just tired of being cooped up, are outdoors. Everywhere Megan looks there's a group of students chatting or studying together, especially as she gets closer to the Maths and Science Department where CalSci is know to have "freethinkers". She chuckles to herself knowing Charlie and Larry will have held classes outdoors today as well and, more likely than not, it would have involved an experiment.

Megan's till chuckling as she walks to Larry's office. Her face drops a the sight of the office door closed and the lights turned off. She may have to reschedule the use of her Wild Car Date, but the agent refuses to give up so easily. Megan immediately heads over to Charlie's office knowing the two friends can often be found enjoying each other's company. Unfortunately, Charlie's office is locked as well, so Megan heads to find Amita.

The grad student is in the quad. She's surrounded by a few younger students and seems to be helping them study. Megan approaches swiftly, gestures to Amita, then goes off to the side of the group so they can chat.

"Hey Megan. What's up?"

"Hi Amita. I was just wondering have you seen Larry? I was looking to head to lunch with him, but his office is locked."

"I take it you looked for Charlie afterwards." Megan nods while Amita smiles. "They went to lunch together with a friend of Charlie's. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you pull Larry away for a date though."

"Thanks Amita. Do you know where they went?"

"There's a pizza place down the street, Sally's, I'm pretty sure they went there." One of the students Amita is helping calls out to her. "Sorry, I've got to go. I'm trying to help these guys with one of Charlie's harder assignments. Good luck finding Larry."

Megan utters a thanks before staring the journey back to her car. She finds the popular pizza shop within a few minutes, parks, and heads in. The shop is cozy and offers authentic Italian food, but also doesn't try to be something it's not. Sally' isn't decorated like a pizza place trying to show off it's Italian roots. It's decorated more like a family restaurant with a college hang out spot flair and a small more professional section. On the sides of the restaurant there are a booths for a more personal setting, in the back the set up is tad more professional with wooden tables and chairs, and in the front there's bean bags and a bookshelf. The diversity lets people hang out with friends, study, go on dates, or have business meetings making Sally's a hit. Which also means a thick lunch crowd causing Megan to step inside instead of trying to search for her boyfriend through the window.

Once in the shop, she walks to the left away from the counter. It takes a good minute of searching for Larry and Charlie before she spots a familiar mop of curly brown hair. The mop is accompanied by two other people, both looking familiar. The trio walks towards the back exit of Sally's spurring Megan to follow. She approaches slowly, not having much choice due to the crowd, and makes it outside as Charlie, Larry and the friend say goodbyes. Normally, Megan would just walk up to the trio, but she stops in her tracks when she notices who the third person is. Directer Robert Tompkins.

The agent physically shakes her head to ebb off the shock, not wanting to waste the opportunity to meet the Director of the NSA. Megan walks up to the trio with an air of confidence she wishes she had instead of the shock she's still feeling.

"Director Tompkins, it's an honor to meet you." The Director turns to face Megan and claps her hand in a firm handshake. Charlie and Larry turn to Megan showing surprise at her sudden appearance.

"Agent Reeves. Likewise, I've heard good things about you. I would love to stay and chat, but I've spent enough time visiting my old friend already." He turns slightly to his left to face Charlie again. Instead of giving the younger man a handshake, like Megan assumes he will, the Director pulls the mathematician into a hug. "I really must head to my meeting. See you soon Charlie."

"Bye Bob."

The Director walks to a nondescript black car, gives directions to a driver, and is whisked away. Megan greets Larry with a modest kiss and raises an eyebrow to the younger genius.

"So Charlie, Bob huh?" The genius opens his mouth and flounders a bit. It's obvious Charlie had no intention of letting anyone, besides Larry, discover his friendship with the Director of the NSA. Megan already knows if someone, namely Don, were to find out it would lead to awkward questions the younger brother wouldn't be able to answer without breaking the law. Don will try to be understanding, whenever the brothers do have this conversation, but will still be upset about the secrecy despite not being able to tell Charlie everything either. As a profiler, it's clear to Megan that the need for transparency comes from the brother's being so distant as kids because they couldn't understand each other. They've made leaps and bounds of progress since Don came home when their mother was sick. Truthfully, majority of the improvements in their relationship didn't happen until the two began working with each other. Any secrets now will seem like a step back in their relationship.

"Uh, yes were are friends. I may have helped him a few times in the past and we kept in touch." He runs his hand through his hair nervously. "But if I did help him I can't tell you anything. Just don't tell Don."

"Don't worry Charlie. I won't tell Don, he doesn't need to know who you choose to be friends with anyway." Charlie visibly relaxes shooting Megan a grateful look.

"Thanks Megan."

Megan nods and turns to Larry, who's arm has been intertwined with hers since they greeted each other.

"Now why didn't _you_ tell me you new Director Tompkins?"

 **AN: So I actually have no idea what the NSA Director's name is in the show. If he makes an appearance I haven't seen that episode yet, but a few fics I've read have his name as Robert Tompkins so that's what I put. Sorry about any spellings/grammar errorsPlease Review**


	4. Amita

**AN: Hey guys, this ones kind of short still but I updated it. Not much changed, it's nearly the same as before. Thanks for reviewing, Once again I've gotten a few ideas from the reviews. It's was brought to my attention that I didn't tell you guys this wasn't really cannon. All my fics will be close to cannon, unless I say they're complete au, but none of them will be** ** _fully_** **cannon.**

 **Amita**

CalSci is abuzz with it's normal level of activity. Students are either studying or going to lectures and professors are doing much the same. Amita just finished attending a lecture about ten minutes ago and is walking across the Sciences and Maths section of CalSci to meet up with Charlie. She gazes at the other students miling about and wonders about the conversation she and Charlie had earlier. At about 8am this morning, Charlie had asked Amita if she would lend him a hand with a quiz before rushing off. The odd thing is, Charlie shouldn't need her help to make a quiz for any of his classes.

Charlie could fall asleep in the middle of a demonstration in class and the students would still say he's the best math professor at CalSci. The genius mathematician makes his own tests and quizzes catered to the specific abilities of each class. While he definitely doesn't need help handling his workload as a teacher, he asked for help on this one quiz. Amita wasn't too surprised though after seeing how secretively busy he's been for the past week and a half. Whatever top secret project he was consulting on must have been a huge one.

She approaches Charlie's office slowly, but doesn't go in immediately because she's thrown off by the closed door. The mathematician has a strict open door policy for whenever one of his students, or anyone with a serious math question, needs help, making it highly unusual for the door to be closed. She walks up to the door, pushes it slightly open, and peeks inside as silently as possible. She sees Charlie standing across the room by his desk conversing with a young man. They're both smiling and chatting as if they're friends despite Amita having never seen this man before.

The young man looks to be about Charlie's age. He has blonde hair, blue eyes, and is dressed like a college student. If it were anyone else studying the mysterious man they would have dismissed him as an old student wanting to catch up with an old professor. Amita needs a closer look, but for some reason she automatically pegs the blonde as an agent of some sort. Instead of hanging around by the door, she decides to walk in and get some answers.

"Hey, Charlie." She greets her friend with a hug and raises on finely shaped eyebrow at the blonde. "Who's this?"

A wave of uncertainty passes over the mathematician's face briefly. The young man, who she's now certain belongs to an agency, steps up to her. The blonde puts a well practiced charming smile on his face and shakes her hand.

"Nice to meet you, Miss.."

"Just Amita." She grabs his hand cautiously. The grip is firm and his eyes are piercing, yup definitely an agent. It probably shouldn't be as obvious as it is, but after spending enough time around Charlie it becomes easy to separate his visitors and his _visitors._ The latter falling on the top secret end of the spectrum and the former on the old friend end of the spectrum.

"Nice to meet you, Amita." There's a minuscule hint of an accent, but it's still impossible to place where the blonde is from. Given the blonde hair and blue eyes, the agent could have originated from anywhere, though most likely Europe.

It's become a game of sorts to Amita over the years, figuring out which agency Charlie's _visitor(s)_ are from. Charlie never tells, of course. Any small piece of information could lead to further questions the mathematician legally can't answer and that's not a position Amita wants to put her friend in. After five years of playing her little game, the only agencies she 100% sure he helps is the FBI, NSA, Homeland Security, and the DOD.

Amita is pulled out of her thoughts by the blonde agent turning back to Charlie. He gives the mathematician a little wave and beings to leave the room. The agent pauses at the door, gives a mischievous smirk, and starts speaking.

"Est-ce que vous jamais allez dire à vos amis comment fameous vous êtes à Paris-Langley?"

She stares at the agent in shock, she would have never pegged him as being french _and_ he speaks as if it's his first language.

"Tais-toi , Luke . Tu sais le travail que je faisais, et à faire, pour vous les gars est au-delà de top secret . Sauf si vous voulez mon frère farfouillé vous devriez le laisser tomber. " Amtia snaps her gaze to Charlie. The mathematician looks a bit sheepish for having outed his near perfect french after previously telling Amtia he was barely conversational in it, but keeps his eyes on Luke.

"Il suffit de ne pas donner de détails." The agent shrugs his shoulders at the pointed look Charlie shoots him. "Eh bien, il est de votre décision. Regardez-moi la prochaine fois que votre à Paris."

"Je vais . Espérons que la prochaine fois que vous les gars ont besoin d'aide , il ne sera pas aussi grave que la dernière fois ." Charlie waves at the blond who is now moving out of the room. "Au revoir, Luke . A plus tard."

"Au revoir."

The door closes lightly as Amtia turns towards Charlie.

"Since when do you speak fluent french?"

He gives a little sheepish shrug. "Since before I came to CalSci. I didn't say anything because you would have asked me why I was in Paris."

"Which brings up another question. Did I hear him say 'Paris-Langley'?"

"Well, I guess I can tell you that much since you can probably find out yourself on google. Paris-Langley is what agents call the main CIA headquarters in Paris." Amita starts to open her mouth, but Charlie cuts her off. "Look I can't tell you anymore, and don't tell Don. Nothing I did in Paris was a vacation so pretty much every detail is confidential."

The grad student smiles lightly. "Relax, I'm not going to tell Don, though I'm sure he already knows something. It's like with parents where you didn't get away with half the things you thought you got away with, they just didn't say anything. He's an agent, and a good one at that, I'm pretty sure he knows more about everything you don't tell him than you would like to consider."

"Really?"

"Yes, I think you're worrying too much. Besides, I was just going to ask what other languages you knew."

"Oh, just French, Italian, and a little Russian."

"Oh _just_ those huh."

 **The translations were made via google translate, I apologize for any mistakes I don't speak french.  
Translations: "Are you ever going to tell your friends how famous you are at Paris-Langely?"  
"Shut up, Luke. You know the work I did, and do, for you guys is beyond top secret. Unless you want my brother poking around you should drop it."  
"Just don't give specifics. Well, it's your decision. It was good taking to you Charlie. Look me up the next time your in Paris."  
"** **I will. Hopefully the next time you guys need help it won't be as dire as the last time. Goodbye, Luke. See you later. "  
** **"Good bye."**


	5. Allan

**AN: I promised it would be up today and it is. In case you didn't know I updated the last chapter, very little changed and nothing vital to the story is different, but check it out anyway. Thanks for reading and enjoy.**

 **Allan**

Allan Eppes is driving slowly across a main LA highway. The car is filled with mellow, smooth jazz, a genre he's been know to indulge in on occasion, and is illuminated only by the passing of highway lamppost. He's currently driving out of LA to attend a jazz concert for the only jazz musician he listens to. A soft smile comes to Allan's lips as he thinks about the concert he's been wanting to go to for months. It's the man's last tour just outside of LA and both shows, the one for tonight in about ten minutes and the one for tomorrow morning, have been sold out for weeks. Allan waited too long to purchase tickets and spent the better part of the week cursing other people's love of jazz.

Imagine the eldest Eppes's surprise when Charlie gave him two tickets, one for each of the reaming shows, earlier today. At the though of his youngest, Allan's smile quickly turns to a frown. For the past few days Charlie has been acting nervous and jumpy. The last time he showed behavior like this Allan and Don found out the mathematician had spent the past week not sleeping in lieu of working on math and consulting. Needless to say, they quickly put an end to that behavior.

He taps the steering wheel in thought before swiftly pulling off the nearest exit and turning around. In his excitement and haste to get to the concert, which he's definitely going to miss now, Allan forgot the sense of foreboding he's had for the past few days. Charlie has clearly been sleeping, and eating, properly, and Allan just has an overwhelming sense something else is going on. Whatever it is, if Charlie's in trouble he needs to know about it, who cares about the concert when something is clearly going on with his youngest. Allan checks the clock on the dash of the car, unfortunately he is practically at the concert hall so it'll take him 45 minutes to get home putting his arrival at about 10pm.

Allan drives on through the night hoping whatever Charlie's into this time isn't dangerous. He pulls into the driveway of the Craftsman slowly, parks and decides to head through the back and into the kitchen. He fumbles with the lock for a moment, due to the darkness, before entering the kitchen of the Craftsman. He sees Charlie standing in front of the fridge in jeans sand a t-shirt, face illuminated from the refrigerator and lights in the hallway. Just as Allan's about to call out to his son, Charlie turns and lets out a yell of surprise to find his father standing behind him. '

Within the five seconds it takes Charlie to stop yelling and realize it's just Allan, and for Allan to yell at him to calm down, there's a third person in the kitchen blocking the light from the hall with a gun trained at Allan's chest. The figure is clearly a male due to it's build, but other than the gun and height no other features can be made out. Charlie quickly flicks on the lights giving Allan a chance to actually see the man pointing a gun at him. The man, who must be either a cop of some sort or a criminal, is wearing all black form fitting clothes. The only skin showing is the young man's tan face which is framed by a halo of pitch black hair. The young man looks a little older than Charlie and has a good amount of muscle,making it obvious he doesn't need a gun to do some damage. Allan would be more concerned if it weren't for the fact that as soon as the lights turned on the man stepped partially in front of Charlie.

"Charlie, who is this and what the hell is going on?!" The mysterious visitor in question lowers the machine gun and shows a clear recognition of who Allan is.

"Dad, I thought you left and were going to stay until tomorrow?" Charlie looks extremely nervous as the agent simply stands with an almost sheepish look on his face.

"What's going on Charlie?! The truth, now."

"This is Nathan, he's an agent from the NSA." The mathematician pauses to form his words carefully, "Someone was paid off there and they're not sure if my name was in one of the files they managed to steal. It was a very "sensitive" job and my name is usually left out or simply written in as a consultant, but they just wanted to be sure I would be okay."

"Is this why you've been acting strangely the past few days?! Has anything happened?!"

"No, no nothing happened. There was one incident yesterday where someone was following me, but Nathan handled it. That's why I gave you the tickets to that jazz concert for tonight and tomorrow. Why did you come back?"

"I knew something was wrong. You just weren't acting right and then you conveniently found tickets to a concert that's been sold out for weeks."

"True." Charlie gives a shrug while remembering how easy it actually was to get those tickets. After walking home from CalSci, with Nathan following at a discreet distance, the mathematician received a text from his bodyguard informing him he was being followed. Nathan then instructed him to use the diversion tactics the NSA taught him to loose the tail while the agent himself handled the potentially deadly stalker. After a few lefts turns and ducking into a few restaurants, Charlie successfully lost his tail and waited patiently at a prearranged meet up spot for Nathan. The agent arrived within minutes with bruised knuckles and the good news of the stalker being handled by a couple of agents who were on standby. The incident was minor, but spurred Charlie into making a call to Bob to ask for the jazz concert tickets as a way to get his dad out of town until they reviewed what was stolen exactly, the request was granted immediately.

Allan watches Charlie open his mouth, obviously not entirely sure what to tell his dad but wanting to say something, but Nathan interrupts. "I've got to go Charlie. I need to check the grounds then go back to my perch. With any luck, I'l be out of you're hair by noon tomorrow."

"Alright."

The agent slowly strides out the back door and into the pitch blackness, making it nearly impossible to see him and leaving the Eppes men alone. Allan takes the lead after a few seconds of silence, by heading into the living room and out of the kitchen. He promptly collapses on the couch while Charlie stays standing.

"Charlie." The "Charlie" is so exasperated and filled with emotion it manages to convey everything Allan wants to say, but can't seem to get out at the moment.

"I know, Dad, I know. You're worried about me, but it's under control. The NSA is handling it. Just don't tell Don, he'll freak out."

"You know, Donnie knows more about your secret activities than he lets on." Allan shifts on the couch to a more upright position.

"Ha, Amita said the same thing. How do you know?"

"I know Donnie, he's good at his jobs."

"Jobs?"

"Yes, his jobs. His job as an agent to keep an eye out for everyone and catch bad guys, and his job as an older brother to keep an eye out for you."

"How much do you think he knows?"

"Enough for him to think you're okay, but not enough so he doesn't spend hours worrying about you." Allan watches his youngest consider just how much Don, and everyone really, worries about him. "Eventually you'll have to tell him Charlie. He's a smart guy and stubborn, either a situation will arise or he'll get tried of guessing and start asking questions."

"Do you think it'll be okay? We could both get in serious trouble if I tell him anything?"

"Oh, Charlie," Allan moves off the couch and gives his youngest a hug. "You know Don will make sure no one gets in trouble. If I know my son, he'll pull the I'm-and-FBI-agent-and-his-brother card to make him knowing whatever it is completely legal. Plus you have a couple of heavy hitters in your corner, like Merrick and Bob and no doubt a few more you haven't told anyone about. There's also Don's team."

"True, they would all try to help."

"Good. Now that I know a little of what's going on, and you're not worried about what to tell Donnie, let's go to bed. It's late and I'm sure you're friend Nathan will keep an eye out for us."

Charlie smiles, looking worn out from worrying these past few days. "Great idea Dad, I am getting a little tired."

 **AN: This felt a little OOC to me, and unintentional OOC, so let me know what you think. Let's just pretend Allan likes jazz and that a concert is held at 9pmish, I have no idea where the jazz thing came from. The next chapter is the last piece and with the ideas I have now it's probably going to be twice as long, but we'll see how it goes. Also my fic Everywhere I Go will finally be updated on Monday the 27th and this will be finished by next Wednesday at the latest.**


	6. Don

**AN: It's finally here, sorry about the wait. Between work and writing 98% of this on a tablet with no keyboard it took a while. The support has been wonderful, you guys are awesome. By the way this is the longest and final chapter. Sorry about any grammar or spelling mistakes (I have no beta)**

 **Warning: Minor cussing**

 **Don**

Dr. Charles Eppes is currently cursing his luck and regretting his life choices.

For the past few months, nearly **ALL** of his close friends have discovered one aspect of his life or another that he was trying to keep secret. First it was Colby and the shooting, then David and the self-defense, then Megan and the NSA, then Amita and his multilingual skills. Even, his father found out something, the fact that his on a first name basis with a CIA bodyguard. The hours worth of document signing now mean nothing. All those non-disclosure agreements going to waste and that's not even the most fustrating part.

No, the worst part is the look. They all gave Charlie the same look when he asked them not to tell Don. It's the look that reminds him he can still be dense despite the high IQ and PHDs. It's a look that's one half amusement and one half fond exasperation. They all seem to be under the impression Charlie's not nearly as stealthy as he thinks, ignoring the fact that he had them fooled until recently. Which brings the mathematician back to the current issue.

Charlie is sitting, tied down to ensure he can't get up, on an immensely uncomfortable metal chair. While he isn't in pain, his normally sharp mind is feeling a bit sluggish, probably from chloroform. To make matters a few hundred times worse, a cursory scan of the room shows one exit and Don, hence cursing his luck and life choices, sitting in an identical chair also tied down.

At the sight of his restrained and slumped over brother, Charlie feels the beginnings of panic trying to ebb it's way into his mind. He tries not to give in to the dismal thoughts, but if Don's here he must be hurt because there's no way anyone would be able to take his older brother with a simple dose of chloroform. Charlie rips his gaze from his brother and begins to study the room in earnest.

It's a very basic layout. The walls appear to be concrete and, given the poor lighting, there's no windows. A musty smell fills the room giving the notion the brothers are underground. The only furniture are the two metal chairs, sitting in the middle of the room, and a small desk, pushed up against the wall to Charlie's left. It's hard to see around Don's prone form, but he can just make out a manila folder laying on the desk. Charlie can't see anything else and curses his inability of rotating his next 180°. Instead of trying to twist his neck anymore, he turns his gaze to the door. It's larger than a typically door, metal, and looks reinforced. There's a small slot at the top, allowing someone to peer in from the outside, and, given the looks of hinges, the door opens outward. The curly haired brunette sighs. Even if they manage to unlock the door it can still be barred from the outside, hindering their escape.

A groan cause Charlie's head to snap to the left at Don. The FBI agent slowly lifts his head from it's rested position on his chest. He shakes his head a bit then tries to stand. With a muttered curse at the resistance, Don finally looks around and sees Charlie.

"Shit."

The older brother runs his gaze up and down Charlie's form. He takes in the rumpled appearance, no surprise there, and the restraints. Not only are the brothers' hands bound together with rope behind the chair, there's also thick ropes binding their upper torsos and arms to the metal edges of the chair, A quick downwards glance shows more rope trapping each leg apart to their respective chair leg.

While Don checks over the younger, Charlie is also checking Don for injures. The restraints are the same, as the mathematician noted earlier, as well as the metal chair. Blood running down the left side of Don's face is the only difference between the two.

Charlie let's out a gasp, though he expected Don to be injured. "What happened? How did they even get you? I don't remember anything after being surrounded on my way home."

His older brother frowns and begins to struggle against the ropes. "Well, I was coming to get you, but then..."

* * *

 _The few students milling around the parking lot of Cal Sci pay little attention as a government issued SUV pulls up. The car draws a few glances, but the students seem to be in a hurry and lose interest when they see the driver. Don Eppes, an FBI agent and brother to one of the most loved professors on campus, showing up is not exactly a shock. The agent_ _often shows up unannounced to ask his little brother for help or to just hang out. The only cause of concern for what would seem to be a lunch visit, is the solemn look on the agent's face._

 _Don parks quickly,completely unaware of the ominous expression he's wearing, and heads straight to the Maths and Science Department. He decided to make a surprise lunch stop as a guise of grilling his younger brother about his shady behavior. Charlie has been acting jumpy for the last few days. Whenever Don asks everyone, including the mathematician, says he's fine. The agent knows his team would not lie to him about a topic as important as Charlie, so they must have been sworn to secrecy if they know anything, which Don believes they do. Either way, Don marches across campus to find out what's going on._

 _Agent Eppes rounds the corner into the hallway that leads to Charlie's office. He enters the unfortunately vacant room, hopes the younger hasn't already had lunch, and decides to check Larry's office next. The two professors never have class at noon on Fridays and can often be found eating or experimenting together. Just as the elder is leaving the office, he's nearly run over by a young woman._

 _"Hey, what's the rush?"_

 _The young woman, a brown-eyed blonde, falters a bit. "Dr. Green is coming to Cal Sci today. " She looks_ _absolutely frantic and speaks almost too quickly for Don to catch._

 _''Who's Dr. Green?"_

 _"A world renown physicist, he was even up for a noble peace prize last year. Look, I have to get going. Pretty much everyone's going to the lecture, so I need to hurry if I want a seat."_

 _Don's lips tilt up slightly in the corners. Dr. Green must be why the outside of the campus is oddly vacant at 12pm, only at Cal Sci will students skip lunch to go to a lecture. "Wait, have you seen Professor Eppes around?"_

 _"Uhh, I saw him walking to the staff parking lot not even a minute ago."_

 _''All right, thanks." The blonde waves goodbye and they both begin to jog to their destinations._

 _By the time the agent sees Charlie the brunette has entered the designated professor parking lot. Don slows into a light jog as he begins to call out to Charlie. The words catch in his throat as three young men appear from between the parked cars and_ _begin to menacingly approach his younger brother. Don breaks out into a run at the sight._

 _The older brother enters the parking lot two seconds too late and watches as one man , who's about the size of Colby, covers Charlie's mouth with a rag. His brother begins to flail, fearing for his life, but the kidnapper is larger and and knows exactly where to stand to decrease the risk of Charlie slipping away. The other two kidnappers are glancing around the parking lot, keeping an eye out. Just as the shortest one is about to turn around, Don reaches them and punches him in the jaw.. The agent uses the surprise attack to sucker punch the other kidnapper. He keeps up a bit of momentum, fighting the two kidnappers as the third handles his brother, but it's short lived. After a few more seconds, it's obvious Charlie fell victim to whatever was on the rag and the huge kidnapper taps his ear twice._

 _Suddenly, a black van pulls into the parking lot at a near leisurely pace. The van's door opens immediately, revealing a driver in the front and another man in the back, prompting the behemoth to pass Charlie over to the man inside the back of the van. The sight draws Don's attention leaving him open to the two other kidnappers. The last thing he's aware of is a sharp pain to the side of his head._

* * *

'You saw?" Charlie bites his lower lip, knowing how worried Don must have been while watching him get kidnapped.

"Yeah, I-"

They're interrupted by footsteps resonating outside of the door. A scraping sound ominously fills the room as the window slot on the door is pushed open. Neither brother can make out who is behind the door though. The only identifying feature is brown eyes, and neither payed enough attention during the kidnapping to identify one of the kidnappers on their eyes alone.

There's an audible click as the door is unlocked. The kidnapper, who they can now identity thanks to the bruised jaw, enters the room and stares at the two brothers. The man has a short stature but broad shoulders. He looks to be of American descent and has brown hair to match his brown eyes. Neither brother says anything, choosing to wait for the kidnapper to reveal something.

The man simply stands there for a good minute, letting the brothers sweat, before opening his mouth to speak. "Food in an hour, water in two, interrogation in three." With that the brunette turns, leaves, and locks the door on the way.

"Do you still have that knife I gave you?"

" Yes, you told me to always keep it on my belt."

Don nods his head in approval. "Good. Where exactly is it?"

"It's on my right side."

"Alright, we have to get out soon, preferably before interrogation."

"Why are they even waiting? Why not just do it now?" Charlie's wide eyed and obviously nervous about the prospect of whatever form of interrogation the kidnappers will pick.

"It's an interrogation technique in itself." At the mathematician's skeptical stare Don continues. "I mean, if we're so worried about the interrogation we lose focus and won't be thinking as clearly on escaping, right?"

"Right."

"They're going to check on us in-between too, and there's no good way to keep track of time in here so we need to move now."

"Alright, what do I need to do?"

The agent takes a moment to shoot Charlie a proud look after hearing the determination in the younger's voice. "Nothing right now. I'm going to shift my chair so I can grab your knife. Then we both shift in the middle so I can pass it to you. After that, you'll start sawing through the ropes."

The brothers get to work immediately. It takes Don about ten minutes to get to Charlie's belt. The agent nearly falls while scooting his chair to the right causing the two to have mini heart attacks and spark laughter at the same time. Luckily, he only moves halfway back and Charlie moves halfway there so their hands can meet and pass along the knife.

"Wait, don't start yet." As soon Charlie gets the knife he tries to start sawing at the ropes on his wrists.

"Why not? I thought getting out of here quickly was a top priority?"

"The ropes are too thick. They may have said an hour until food, but someones going to come back before then to check on us. If you they look in the window and your chairs not turned back, we can kiss our escape goodbye."

Without another word, the young mathematician stars moving his chair back to it's original position. He begins sawing at the thick ropes around his wrist, knowing the sooner they're off the faster getting the other ropes off will be. Charlie freezes ten minutes later, and well into getting the ropes around his torso off, as the sound of footsteps echo in the hall again. The curly headed brunette looks at Don in fear for a moment before the elder shakes his head indicating they'll be find and to just not move.

The slot opens up revealing a different pair of eyes than the previous short brown eyed kidnapper. Whoever it is simply gives the brothers and room a once over before closing the slot and leaving. The Eppes brothers let out simultaneous sighs of relief before Don gestures for Charlie to get back to work.

Don keeps up a litany of words over the next twenty minutes or so to keep Charlie calm and focused. The younger is nearly finished with the ropes around his torso when they hear clear sounds of someone outside the door. The brunette panics for a minute before realizing Don was right to tell him not to saw completely through the ropes. Due to the ropes not being fully broken, it gives the illusion Charlie is still tied up. Whoever is at the door gives the same check as the last time. The kidnapper must not be able to Charlie's nearly free, because he leaves after the quick check.

Five more minutes of sawing pass before Charlie finishes with the ropes on his feet. He stands with a grin, stretching and rubbing his wrists.

"Do my hands, give me the knife, then hide behind the door."

"What why?" All semblance of a smile leaves the younger's face.

"There's only a few minutes left before they come back with the food. It's nearing the first hour mark and they must have sent the last guy to check to make sure we were behaving. When they see you out of the ropes they're going to come in. When that happens you need to run out of the room and close the door behind you. "

"What?! I'm not leaving you here, Donnie!"

"Yes, you are! You don't have a choice. Once they see you're free they'll bump up the interrogation time, or worse. Just slip out the room, close the door, and run. Try to get out of the building, but if you can't find a phone and call David." Charlie nods, but still looks hesitant. "Get behind the door _now_ Charlie! They're going to come soon,"

The mathematician gets into position, takes a deep breath, and steels himself he's about to do. The idea of hurting someone isn't the nerve wracking part, it's the I'm-about-to-out-one-of-my-secrets- to-my-older-brother part that is stressing him out, because there's _no way_ he's leaving Don here. The only outward sign is Charlie's sweating palms, which hopefully Don attributes to nerves about leaving the elder behind. With any luck the smaller of their two guards will enter the room instead of the behemoth.

The wait is short, only a minute or so as Don predicted, before there's a clear crunching sound of someone approaching the door. The slot moves into the open position and a coarse "shit" can be heard before the door is unlocked. The brown eyed, brunette kidnapper, Charlie's luck must not be all bad, enters the room. In a swift movement, the mathematician jumps on the kidnappers back, closing the door with a kick, and wraps his arms around the kidnappers neck causing him to drop the tray of food. He pulls as tight as he can and holds on, much like a bull riding competition, as the man begins to claw at the mathematician's arms and jerk wildly. The only sounds that can be heard are Don cutting through the ropes, Charlie panting in exertion, and the kidnapper gasping for air. It takes nearly another minute before the kidnapper finally slumps to the ground successfully knocked out.

Don wastes no time, "Check him for weapons." A thorough check reveals a large military knife and a gun. "Great. Drag him to where you were standing before then get over here and help me get out of these ropes."

Between the two of them, and the heavy duty knife, Don is comptely untied in a matter of minutes.

"Something must be going on." The agent checks the chamber of the gun, relived to find it full, then takes the safety off.

"Why?"

Don gestures to the unconscious kidnapper, "He's been here for over five minutes." Then he points to the mess on the ground. "Judging by the lack of silverware, they didn't intend on actually feeding us. Which means one of their own has been missing for over five minutes and they haven't come for him yet, or us."

No sooner than Don finishes speaking, shouts are heard coming from somewhere outside the room. The yelling stops abruptly at the clear sound of a silence assault rifle.

Don passes Charlie the larger knife, "Here get behind me. You may be the better shot, but I've killed people before and I'd do it again to get out of here." The younger's mouth drops open in shock, but he has not time to ask questions as someone approaches the door.

Fortunately, or unfortunately for Charlie, Nathan opens the door with a raised assault riffle. The CIA bodyguard lowers the weapon upon seeing Don and Charlie and Don, much to Charlie's surprise, lowers his weapon as well.

"Nice to see you again Nate." A smile tugs at the corner of Don's lips as Charlie nearly falls over in shock.

"Wait,you two know each other?!"

Don turns partially away from the door to give Charlie an exasperated look. "Of course, like I was going to let some newbie CIA dog watch over my brother."

"Is that why Alex suddenly left?" He shots his older brother an accusatory look. Alex may have been a new agent, but he was nice and friendly.

"I have a few contacts in the CIA who I asked to look out for you. When I found out some fresh agent was assigned to you I had them change it." Charlie opens his mouth to speak, but Don cuts him off. "Before you ask, no I won't tell you who my contacts are, yes I do know about your self defense training and marksmanship skills, but from an NSA contact." Don and Nathan offer a shrug to Charlie's look of bewilderment. "Your my little brother, of course I kept tabs on you. You're self defense and marksmanship training was my idea when I found how dangerous consulting could be."

The younger brother literally sags into the chair in relief. Don keeps an eye on the door, and Nathan, with an amused expression on his face. "So they were right. You knew everything this whole time. Do you know how hard it it was to keep everything hidden? The marksmanship, the self defense training, the CIA, Bob, and the languages." He shoots an annoyed look at his brother, but is met with a look of confusion. "Uhh,..."

"Wait, what? '' Don fully turns his attention on Charlie, trusting the CIA agent to do his job. "What are you talking about? What languages and who's Bob?"

"Shit, you didn't know about those two?" He turns his brown eyes to Nathan looking for help. The agent simply ignores him and continues guarding the door.

"What languages, Chuck?" Don wants answers before Charlie can think of a good deflection.

"The uh languages I speak."

"You're bilingual." There's only slight surprise on the older's face. ''How many languages?"

''Seven."

''Well, I mean it's a little bit of a shock, but you're a genius. This stuff is typical for geniuses, right?"

Charlie just shrugs, "Maybe, I guess."

"And who's Bob? Wait, do you mean NSA Director Robert Tompkins?! You're on a nickname basis with the Director of the NSA? My contact told me you two were friendly, but not that friendly. "

Charlie sighs and runs his hand down his face. "That's a story for another time. Let's just go home."

Don shakes his head in fond exasperation, "Alright, let's go home."

 **AN: So what do you guys think? I may do an epilogue chapter, possibly as a stand alone, but I make no promises. I'm not too fond of the ending so I may edit this later.**


End file.
